


Freaky Sherlock

by LikeATeddyBear



Category: Courage the Cowardly Dog, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Community: sherlockbbc_fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 19:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeATeddyBear/pseuds/LikeATeddyBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello, new friend, name's Sherlock Holmes. Listen to my voice and how it drones. I shock and roam, as Sherlock Holmes, And I've been very... Bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freaky Sherlock

Hello, new friend, name’s Sherlock Holmes.  
Listen to my voice and how it drones.  
I shock and roam, as Sherlock Holmes,  
And I’ve been very...  
Bored.

The story that’s about to be spun,  
I tell you, it cannot be undone.  
It’s of my Dear John Watson,  
And just how I’ve been...  
Bored.

Viola, the flat! My John lives here.  
With milk aloft, and sweet jam dear.  
My heart beat fast as I drew near.  
I felt so nice,  
Yet bored.

I thought just how excited he,  
Must be that I have a case to see,  
We’d run, we’d shout  
“No, John, the key!”  
“My dear boy, you CAN’T still be...  
Bored.”

(Things involving the case happen. I might write these fills one day, but I think it's fine as it is for now.)

That’s when John’s tired eyes beheld-  
A different clue!  
One I’d dispelled.  
D-U-M-B is what I spelled,  
And that’s how I spell…  
Bored.

(After the case)

Alone was I, with my Dear Watson,  
And his stunned face,  
Said “Stunning, stunning.”  
Which, I say, did certainly gun me on to be less…  
Bored.

(They speak of family)

It was quite a day, I’ll not be soft,  
The day I first kicked Mycroft.  
Oh, what a lovely scoff to waft.  
I’d rarely felt less…  
Bored.

My idiotic brother is what he was.  
That stupid, moronic ball of pudge.  
And, oh, such pudge, such pudge, it does  
Demand that I be…  
Bored.

He looked at me, his glaring eye  
And creamsicle aside was mine,  
I filled with huffs, I filled with sighs,  
And that’s when I got…  
Bored.

(John and him talk further and John stubs his toe somehow, or some sort)

Your gasping breath, your eyes mere pearls,  
Unfurl odd memories of a girl.  
With intense deduction, oh, they twist and twirl,  
Yet tempt me to be…  
Bored.

Irene Adler, the woman was named,  
Her brain only second to my game,  
Until one evening, I’m ashamed,  
I got a little…  
Bored with her.

The look upon your face back there  
Was sweet and fair, and, may I dare,  
Ask that you stay right there,  
So I may never again be bored.

Well, maybe not _never_.

Dear John, your brain, a tangled mess  
Of nothing I’ve ever sought to undress,  
But it was time my mind digressed,  
And Lestrade found me to be..  
In a certain mood.

Into my flat, he boldly walked,  
With case in hand, my mind was bought.  
“What have you caught,” I prayed, “And tut!”  
I couldn’t help but be…  
You know.

I’ve never seen such a case before!  
The murder, it called, the water, it glistened.  
Purse, wedding ring, affair kissing!  
I thought, yes, well, what could be missing?  
A search for the suit case, lest I become…  
Bored.

(He speaks of the case and how John entertained him greatly, aside from the case itself, and how they came back to the flat.)

Then, called out our landlady, the Dear, sweet sweeper,  
To remind us that she was not our housekeeper.  
We now resign inside the flat, deeper.  
Your detective, ever dapper.

Goodbye, nice case, I’ll miss the chase,  
And pills’ importance, sent to deep space.  
Dear John Watson, what’s the harm in fun’s case  
If I was slightly...  
Bored.

With Love, Sherlock.


End file.
